


Backrooms, moonshine and sweet sweet jazz

by Gigs



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigs/pseuds/Gigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prohibition Era AU. Burnie’s Cellar is a speakeasy style business dealing in alcohol and good music following the Great War. Burnie is one of the four corners of a gang that runs and protects Austin and his gang can often be found in the Cellar, recouping after an odd job about town or catching up with their ragtag Family. Or you know hooking up in an alleyway or backroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backrooms, moonshine and sweet sweet jazz

Burnie’s is perhaps the only food joint this side of Austin that wasn’t using rat as its main component of a barbecue meal.

While the food was good that wasn’t the true reason the establishment enjoyed a steady stream of customers. The real reason lay behind a non-descript black door round the back of the building.

It lacked the glamour of a New York speakeasy, no revolving door behind a meat fridge or rotating bookshelf wired to a single button although they’re all pretty damn sure that Joel is lying when he talks of those set ups.

Their “set up” is just a door that looks as if it should lead to the kitchens but instead opens on to Adam who, if on the list, allows you downstairs to Burnie’s Cellar.

Burnie’s Cellar; where prohibition doesn’t exist, the bathtub gin is well mixed, the beer is cold, the people are the oddest mix of fool meets genius and the music is good. The music, a jazz so smoothly performed that it softens any bitterness garnered from the questionable whiskey or perhaps an ill-judged look.

The room itself sprawls across the cellars of all the buildings above it that Burnie and his other business owners thought to purchase and knock through. The low ceilings and lighting however ensure that the glow and warmth befitting such an establishment is not lost in the space.

The bar, dark wood that Mrs Ramsay had personally stained and varnished to hide that it was constructed of salvage yard timber instead of heavy oak, ran along the right wall. A few tables and upholstered chairs, similarly dyed, were arranged around the stage upon which a Steinway, too nice to be there, stood. The same could’ve been said of a few of the patrons Ryan had thought one his first visit. That had been for a job interview, for a job he’d obviously gotten by his being in the Cellar tonight.

He sipped his whiskey, watching as Hullum took over the piano playing from the excitable but not untalented Miles. Hullum repelled people with his odd sense of humour but dispelled any such dislike created over an evening with the way he coaxed a glorious sound from the keys. The other musicians were good enough to pick up where he started from and play around him in their own way. Hullum could occasionally be heard to stray from the familiar routes of the jazz that’d been agreed to be played that evening to throw in a classical riff. Perhaps some form of apology to the Steinway for using it for a different form of music than it had been made for.

Turning his attention from the man at the piano, who was one of his bosses in any case his eyes rested on the section of the floor where some room had been made for dancing...or for attempts at it anyway. Tuggey and her man Jones dashed about the space, a flame-haired duo of about the same crazy mix of grace and youthful clumsiness. She waved at Ryan motioning for him to join them but he declined with a smile.

Next to them Gavin, a British import who was thought of as a Ramsey by everything apart from blood, jigged with the pretty blond waitress Barbara. Those two were interesting. The friendships between all the members of their business were, and had to be, pretty strong. The running joke was whether Gavin would ever have the sense to say something to her before Barbara decided that Canada was preferable. The running joke to everyone but Geoff and Ryan it seemed. Ryan thought of that conversation as the other man in question strode into the room to appraise his employees and friends.

They’d been sharing a beer in celebration of the most recent engagement, what they had jokingly called “Caiti being fool enough to agree to marry Jack”, and someone had drunkenly spouted off at the unwed men and women of the company about how they should settle down because they didn’t know what they were missing getting to enjoy a marriage in peacetime. It was probably Joel. He’d barrelled over to Geoff, where he sat with Ryan, and urged Geoff to put the pressure on Gavin to marry to ensure that he stayed in their fine country.

Geoff had laughed him off and said half to his drink half to himself, “that idiot’s never going to be married.”

Ryan laughed eyeing Gavin with a fondness that had crept up on him with the young British man. “I don’t know, he talks nonsense a lot but he’s better looking than most of the people in the state. Plus that damn accent...” he trailed off as Geoff barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Not sure the wedding aisle is the one Gavin prefers.”

His tired eyes flicked up to meet Ryan’s and Ryan saw the deeper meaning behind the joke and nodded slowly. He looked out at where the young man squirmed under Joel’s persistence. When he looked back at Geoff he saw the threat there in light of this shared information. The threat and worry about what he could do with the inferred information. Ryan stared back his stomach doing all sorts of manoeuvres as he raced through how he could answer without answering the seed of question as to his personal interests in Geoff’s eyes.

Trust was the language here and he shrugged and said,

“If that’s the case he can’t help it, marriage is expensive anyway.” Geoff appraised him lips twitching into an almost smile and cleared his throat.

“I don’t fucking know Ryan” he replied slowly, “fuck knows I’ve joked about sticking it into any number of things that aren’t exactly smiled upon by society or you know,” He gestured upwards obviously not meaning the cooking staff working tirelessly above the Cellar, “...but if that’s your thing and it ain’t hurting anybody when what’s the big fucking deal?” His voice went up a bit at the end, angry in defence of his best friend. He shook himself and laughed clinking a glass to Ryan’s, “loose lips sink ships Ryan my man” he said all lightness and humour. The undertone was hardly going to be lost on Ryan and he raised his glass to Geoff and downed his drink.

Ryan was dragged out of the memory by a small altercation at the door. Some fool had protested to being frisked by Adam. There were few rules for the Cellar but those that were inexistence were followed closer than a Catholic is meant to follow scripture. A brief search of each and every person entering the place was one of those rules.

So caught up in watching the angry woman at the door subject herself to being frisked lightly that Ryan did not notice the man approach until he laid a hand on Ryan’s shoulder,

“Geoff says we’re to go pick up a box of supplies from the train station,” Gavin announced with a hint of reluctance. “He can’t be arsed to go tomorrow and has been drinking too much to do it now.”

“Why us exactly?” Ryan asked with a curious smile already reaching for his jacket. Gavin’s suit, another of the rules, was far less neat than his own, his tie long since lost, the sleeves rolled up and a button popped for air. It suited him. Gavin grinned,

“I’m listed as one of the people able to make the pick-up and you can drive.” He raised an eyebrow as Ryan motioned towards his glass, it was cold outside and Ryan had just been getting into the latest tune from the stage. “Please you’ve been nursing that one all night.”

“Have you been watching me?” Ryan jokes as they weave through to the foot of the stairs. He could’ve sworn he saw Gavin’s face twitch slightly and his reply is sharper although still jovial.

“My eye was drawn to the one Billy-no-mates in the Cellar, what’s the matter Ryan forget how to make friends this evening?”

 

Ryan doesn’t laugh just looks at him before turning to get the starter for the automobile from Joel. He might as well have taken his wallet for good measure for all Joel was noticing his surroundings. The dark haired man was interrogating Barbara about Yukon and whether it’d be worth the trip for the gold opportunities. As they traipsed up the stairs Ryan caught one last manic sentence about how “this country’s economic fortune can’t go on forever you know” before the heavy door swung shut behind them and the chatter, clinking of glass and strains of music vanished.

 

In the evening air they were alone and it felt...charged. Gavin was pointedly not making his gaze but looking at him waiting for him to open the car door or...do something else.

 

Ryan did something he was excellent at doing, ignored it.

He swung himself into the driver’s seat and tapped the steering wheel until Gavin got in the back.

“What am I your fucking chauffeur?” he laughed as the younger man opened his mouth. Gavin spluttered as Ryan set them in motion. He faded into silence as they traversed the almost empty streets.

It was almost unbearable. Every acceleration or braking seemed amplified and Ryan steadfastly refused to check if anyone was behind him lest he catch sight of Gavin as he did so.

They weren’t headed towards the active station but to the one abandoned during some manifest destiny fuck up where two stations were built but the town sprang up around one now the other. It was out of the way of the main part of the city and so ideal for any illicit black market trade.

Gavin only spoke up when Ryan turned the car down his own personal shortcut, a barely wide-enough for the car gap between two industrial buildings on the outskirts of the city.

“Stop the car...just” he leaned forward cutting off any protestations Ryan might have “...please Ryan.”

They stopped and Gavin was out the car in a flash pacing in his catlike manner in the still lit headlights. After a few seconds of watching him Ryan sighed and swung out of the car.

Gavin paused and stared at him in the glow of the lights, eyes searching Ryan’s face for something. Ryan didn’t know whether he’d find it, he’d spent years honing his face to show only what he allowed to be seen. He showed him instead.

With a precursory glance up and down the alleyway, unnecessary given their location but reassurance to Gavin that they were along more than anything, he swallowed hard and moved.

Gavin moved to meet him and they collided in a grasping embrace clumsily finding each other’s mouths in a hard kiss that lasted only seconds before Ryan broke it off to meet his eyes. They were bright and their chests heaved in unison. He crowded Gavin against the brick wall to kiss him again, licking into his mouth with the same urgency that Gavin’s hands gripped his hips and clutched at his chest. Gavin rolled against him, kissing him back dirty and open mouthed and oh so eager. Ryan pressed against him fully circling hips that were flush against Gavin’s to elicit a groan from the younger man.

“Bugger” he gasped as Ryan thrust against him.

“That’s me,” Ryan murmured sardonically, “or should I say that’s us?” Gavin stiffened for a second before fumbling for Ryan’s belt. He moved so that Ryan was the one with his back to the hard stone and grinned,

“Feels strange for us to agree on something” He replied almost a laugh to his voice although his hands were shaking as they tried to undo Ryan’s belt. Ryan did it for him then reached for Gavin’s own. Gavin batted his hands away, sinking to his knees with a purpose.

“I look forward to us agreeing on a lot in the future,” Ryan said his voice pitching lower as Gavin pressed a kiss to his clothed erection. Then there a few moments when the only audible sounds other than the constant background of wind through abandoned buildings were the soft clink of Ryan’s belt hitting the brick, the scrape of Gavin’s shoes as he shifted on his knees and a low murmur in the back of Ryan’s throat that would have been a whine if Ryan would ever admit he was capable of such an act.

Gavin’s hands gripped his shaft and stroked him slowly, eyes admiring. They traded a smile which morphed into an eager grin on Gavin’s part before he took Ryan into his mouth, tasting him cautiously.

Ryan had a split second of wondering whether Gavin had ever done anything of this kind of thing before when he swallowed Ryan with an obscene noise, eyes slid shut in bliss. That answered that question.

Ryan groaned at the wet hot slide of Gavin’s mouth up and down his shaft. He buried his hands in Gavin’s hair not pulling or being rough in any way until Gavin paused to ask him what the fuck was wrong with him. Then he let go.

As Gavin’s head bobbed Ryan began to cant his hips moaning as the younger man took him the hilt. He could feel the knot in his stomach rising and the fizzle of orgasm starting to whizz around his body. He was too wound up with the sensation and sight of his dick sliding between Gavin’s lips to last long and barely gave Gavin time to pull off before he came.

He exhaled raggedly, thankful that the worst of the damage had been done to some weeds growing between the cracks in the road. Tucking himself away he looked at Gavin who was massaging his jaw and, undeniably hard as the stone he’d been kneeling on.

Ryan drew Gavin to him kissing him deeply ignoring the musky taste of himself on Gavin’s tongue. He turned Gavin to face the wall hugging him from behind as he undid the younger man’s belt buckle. Gavin panted as Ryan pulled his straining cock out into the open air. Pulling his hand back to where his face rested on Gavin’s shoulder Ryan licked a strip up the centre of his palm and jerked Gavin off.

One hand on Gavin’s hip, the other working his shaft, Ryan enjoyed the roll of Gavin’s body as he brought him to orgasm. He couldn’t see his face like this which was a shame but the way his shoulders bunched, his hands skittered to brace himself on the brick wall and the drawn out moan of “Ryan” he had a feeling Gavin was enjoying it.

He came with a cry sagging briefly against Ryan as he milked him dry.

They laughed awkwardly at first but then genuinely and it morphed into kissing until Gavin half tripped over a wayward brick and brought them back to the fact that they had a job to do.

Fortunately their rendezvous was terrified of the Austin Family and didn’t mind having been made to wait some twenty minutes out in what qualified as the desert in the shell of a ghost station.

“What is the delivery anyway?” Ryan asked as they passed the line back into the city’s centre the crates sat innocently on the back seat. Gavin smiled from the passenger seat,

“You’ll find out,” he said smoothly trying to tidy his wayward hair and brush the dirt off of his knees. He gave up, “if anyone actually notices I’m half covered in mud I’ll tell them you punched me because I said something stupid.” He remarked resignedly. He did look a lot more dishevelled then when they’d left but then Ryan was a little worse for the wear as well.

“And my excuse is?” he asked. Gavin snorted.

“That I punched back of course.” Ryan had to laugh at that and he did easy and loud, bringing them to a halt at the little black door. Gavin leaned over to kiss him once on the mouth, pulling back to smile wistfully and then bounded out to carry one of the crates inside. Adam helped Ryan with the others, getting inside to hear the drunken exclamations of “you probably deserved it.” As Gavin regaled those interested in the lie.

“Scrawny bastard punched back through,” Ryan grumbled good-naturedly to more laughter.

Geoff caught Ryan’s arm as he left the backroom having deposited his crate there.

“Why did Gavin just ask me if he could have first look at the crates?” He asked in a cool but not unfriendly undertone. Ryan shrugged signalling for his second drink of the night.

“Beats me, I don’t even know what’s in them. Is it that English chocolate he claims is superior all the time?” he replied smiling in thanks at Kara as she slid it to him. The whiskey tasted smooth and sharp as Gavin had just minutes earlier. Geoff blinked at him before letting out a whoop of laughter. Ryan grinned along with him eyes wide in confusion. Geoff shook his head and patted Ryan on the shoulder in a friendly manner saying with a laugh in his voice,

“It’s not chocolate Ryan my man but thank you for your hard work this evening.” His face looked wicked all of a sudden and he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Ryan,

“The crates? That Gavin wanted something from? They’re full of women’s silk stockings.”

Ryan spluttered and Geoff went off into peals of his strange laughter again calling for Kara to get Ryan another drink. “I think Ryan’s awful thirsty tonight!”

 


End file.
